


Tiny Dancer

by CherryBlossomLesbian



Series: Prompt Fills [18]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Prompt Fill, Sleep Deprivation, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, hallucinations of dead people, set during tfaws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBlossomLesbian/pseuds/CherryBlossomLesbian
Summary: The first night was okay.It wasn't uncommon for him to have sleepless nights. He could power through a day with no sleep, no problem. A cup of coffee and a cold splash of water on his face every once and awhile and everything was fine.Sam didn't even notice.The second night was harder.OR: Bucky struggles with sleep deprivation.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson
Series: Prompt Fills [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978546
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Tiny Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: can u do one where bucky keeps having nightamres and is sleep deprived. And sam and him are roommates (platonic) and he keeps trying to help him but he pushes him away because he’s afraid of what he would think of him if he told him. But he’s so obviously exhausted that sam confronts him and convinces him to talk about it somewhat. Btw I like ur fics a lot they’re rlly good 😁
> 
> Title from the Tiny Dancer by Elton John. 
> 
> Warnings: Hallucinations (specifically those of dead people (Nat and Steve)), mentions of blood

The first night was okay. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to have sleepless nights. He could power through a day with no sleep, no problem. A cup of coffee and a cold splash of water on his face every once and awhile and everything was fine. 

Sam didn't even notice.

The second night was harder. 

He spent the entire night tossing and turning. Thoughts were swirling in his head, memories were colliding into one another in painful aches. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw splatters of blood on concrete. 

It wasn't his own. 

He tried everything he could think of to fall asleep. He fluffed his pillow at least three different times, switched between four different blankets, and even turned the light off (yes, he usually slept with the lights on. If he woke up from a nightmare, he wouldn't immediately think he was locked in a cell if he could easily see everything in his room). 

None of it worked, and by the time the sun was coming up, the bags under his eyes were definitely visible. 

Sam noticed. 

The usual careless morning atmosphere in their apartment kitchen during breakfast was tense, with every second of silence feeling like hours. 

Bucky grabbed a Pop-Tart and the coffee pot warming on the machine. 

Sam grabbed his wrist before he could pour the liquid into his mug. 

"When's the last time you slept?" Sam prodded, expression serious, as if it was life or death. 

"When's the last time you did?" Bucky countered. It was a desperate attempt to dodge the question, and they both knew it. 

Sam rolled his eyes. "Last night." 

Bucky nodded. "Me too." 

"Bullshit." With his left hand still gripping the wrist of Bucky's flesh hand, Sam took the coffee pot in his right and poured the remaining into his own mug, drinking it down within a minute. 

Bucky glared at him. 

Logically, he knew that caffeine wasn't good for sleep. His psychiatrist had told him that before. His therapist has reiterated it at least ten times. He said that after 48 hours of no sleep, caffeine should be off the table. 

But he was tired as hell, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to get through the day without it. 

"You can keep glaring daggers at me, but the coffee's gone, and I know you don't know how to use the machine." Sam said, before his expression went from stern to worried. 

"I'm here if you want to talk." He said, eyes softening, obvious care and concern hidden with them. 

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. Yeah, it would probably be best to talk about it. How he can't even shut his eyes for a moment without seeing splotches of red. 

Instead, he said "I'm okay." 

Sam definitely didn't believe him. 

~~~~~~~~

He somehow made it through the day. Three different meetings at SHIELD and another one for SWORD, as well as one of the interns pestering him about some kind of paperwork he'd already filled out. 

By the time he got back to the apartment and made a quick dinner of instant ramen, he was certain he'd fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow. 

He didn't. 

Silhouettes danced in his vision, almost like hallucinations, although he could tell they weren't real. 

He stared, blank eyed at the off-white popcorn ceiling, flashes of ballerinas and flying bullets shaking him back awake whenever his eyes fell closed for more than a minute. 

His subconscious knows what his conscious cannot remember. 

Around 4am, he begins hearing screams of younger girls. Garbled russian. Crying. 

At 6am, Natalia stands at the corner of his bed, smiles at him, then disappears. 

Sam knocks on the door. 

He hears a laugh that is definitely not Sam, followed by a cough. 

72 hours. 

72 hours and he's having clear visual and auditory hallucinations of both Natalia and Stevie. 

He's gotten worse. 

The knock repeats, and Sam calls out, "Bucky?"

His name echoes in his ears. another voice pressing itself into his immediate focus, changing the echo to Natalia's soft voice calling him _James _.__

__He blinks._ _

__A young, skinny Steve with bandages all over his face and an obvious bloody nose stands at the foot of his bed._ _

__He blinks again, and Steve's gone._ _

__"Wilson." He calls out, feeling like a shot in the dark even through Sam's right there on the other side of the door._ _

__The door handle turns._ _

__"Buck, can I come in?" Sam asks, and Bucky can hear the anxiety in his voice._ _

__"...yea." He answers, quietly, looking at his metal arm, expecting it to change from vibranium to titanium right before his eyes. "I think I...I think I need help."_ _

__The words catch in his throat, but he manages to force them out. It's still a scary thing for him to admit. Coupled with a bit of trust issues and the way he was raised, as well as the seventy years of torture where he was forced to suppress his emotions, he's not used to...being allowed to ask for help. To admit he has a problem._ _

__To even acknowledge his feelings is hard sometimes._ _

__The door opens with a light squeaking of the hinges, and Sam steps in, clad in red plaid pajamas._ _

__Bucky forces his body to sit up to face Sam, taking a deep breath as he feels his limbs protest the movement by releasing sharp bursts of pain._ _

__Sam looks at him. Bags under his eyes, messed up hair, and even the slight shaking of his flesh hand._ _

__Bucky swallows._ _

__"72 hours." He simply says, and Sam breaks out of whatever trance he'd been in to nod in response._ _

__Sam began to approach the bed in the center of the room, standing at the edge, waiting, until Bucky pats the spot on the mattress next to him and Sam climbs on._ _

__He slings an arm over Bucky's shoulders, then asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"_ _

__"The first night was fine." Bucky starts immediately, already feeling tears well in the corners of his eyes, knowing what he'd have to say soon, that he had to admit he's still so broken he sees his dead friends in hallucinations due to sleep deprivation._ _

__"The second night...well, it was the usual, for lack of a better term. HYDRA, blood, memories just out of my reach...I couldn't close my eyes without feeling the pain those sights brought." He took a long, deep sigh, blinking a few times to try to get rid of the tears._ _

__"Last night...it was all Red Room. Dancers. Ballerinas. Bullets." He mindlessly moved his flesh hand up to his head, carefully carding through his own tangled locks._ _

__"Then there was Natalia. Her voice, her cries, her screams." He can feel his heart wrench as he speaks. Sam stays silent, just listening. "Then I saw her, and heard Stevie. And then there was Stevie, and then Natalia's voice, and it was all just…"_ _

__"Too much?" Sam finishes for him._ _

__He nods solemnly._ _

__"I miss them." He states as tears run down his cheek. "I didn't really think about it before, didn't process, but now…it's almost like they're haunting me."_ _

__Sam looks deep in thought for a few moments, before speaking once again. "Have you talked to your therapist about it? The grief?"_ _

__Bucky almost laughs. "We've had so much else to unpack we haven't really gotten to it."_ _

__"I talked to mine." Sam shrugs. "It's like all her and me do is talk about grief and survivor's guilt."_ _

__"Well, I have an appointment today." Bucky says far too cheerfully with the tears still streaming down his face._ _

__"Oh, no, you're rescheduling, it's naptime now." Sam states in that commanding, booming voice he usually saves exclusively for important missions or a rowdy meeting room._ _

__Bucky smirks "Captain America voice ain't gonna work on me, but nice tr-"_ _

__His body cuts him off with a yawn._ _

__Sam grins._ _

__"I'll go make some warm milk. You get comfortable." The insistent tone is lighter now, although definitely still present._ _

__Bucky shakes his head as Sam leaves, laying his head on his pillow and sinking into its warmth._ _

__~~~~~~~~_ _

__"Alright, Barnes, got you a cup of warm milk-"_ _

__A snore from Bucky's bed interrupts him._ _

__He's curled up in bed, both hands, flesh and metal, holding the large, fuzzy blue blanket to his chest, eyelids fluttering just a tiniest bit to signal he's in a cheerful dream._ _

__Another snore comes from the bed, and Sam takes that as his cue to exit and allow his roommate to get some some much needed rest._ _

__He sets the mug of microwaved milk on Barnes' nightstand, right next to his lamp and alarm._ _

__"Goodnight, Buck." He whispers as he slowly shuts the door, leaving Barnes to a peaceful sleep._ _

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to submit a prompt for me to write, check out the notes of my prompt fills series this fic is in!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cartersleia)
> 
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